best friend confessions

confession: i want to go dancing every night. i don’t. i barely make it out dancing more than once a week. here’s why: i want to go out alone, so that i can go where i want, when i want, and leave whenever i want, without consulting or considering what another wants. ok, fine. the problem with going out alone is that i have to wear that heavy bitch armor broadcasting the “don’t fuck with me” vibe. i’m too tired to wear the armor. i’m too vulnerable without it…at least to be out dancing alone.   confession: it is amusing to me that my angel diva sisters have never seen the going-out-alone-bitch of me and they never will, because when i am with them, i have no need for the armor because i am not alone.   confession: i am a BLAST to live with. i’m more fun than you’d think from reading my moody confessional blogs. i’m goofy-dancing silly-joke-making all the time. i clean the bathrooms and do everyone’s laundry. i can cook, too, even though i usually don’t, but i will…if you ask nicely with a specific request. wizard (who is snoop-reading over my shoulder) says that the reasons i’ve listed above are ways that i’m extra-sweet, not the reasons i’m a blast to live with. he says the reasons i’m a blast are that i’m naked jumping on the trampoline almost every day when he and papi come home from work, my eating-disorderd obsession with exercise makes me an excellent work-out partner (always willing and encouraging), i have high-class chocolate and candy hidden in the apartment (anytime anyone has a craving, i have it covered), everybody in the household eats healthier than they would otherwise because i’m in charge of the grocery list and only buy TASTY good-for-ya stuff, i know the answer to almost any question, i find solutions to any problem, i make everything easy, and i laugh at almost anything.  (yay me!)    confession: since many of my confessions are the “ugh” kind, i was overdue for the “yay me” variety. plus, my holiday funk has lifted.   confession: yesterday i received the email i knew would arrive eventually. i didn’t know what it would say, but i knew that name would appear in my inbox again. i love him. he loves me. he waited to write to me until his brokenness was healed enough that he wouldn’t need me. we know ourselves and each other well enough to know that it is best for us to communicate when we are more whole and less broken, and not when the unspeakable needs are too great to be filled by anyone. i’ve missed him. he’s back. (and for those of you wondering, it isn’t kiwi.)   confession: gigi is here! gigi is here! gigi is here! i am a healthier version of me when gigi and i are together. the things i can deny and avoid and pretend not to know when i am alone i can not deny, avoid, or pretend when i am with her. many things have crystallized for me in the past week since her arrival. i know better, clearer, fervently, passionately, doubtlessly. i know what is right for me and what to do. i’m GRATEFUL for gigi.   confession: i’ve told both gigi and c that i’m not allowed to choose partners for intimate relationships for myself, because i choose poorly. they both vetoed the last two, but i proceeded anyway, wasting precious time and energy. i’m giving them “yay or nay” authority for all future relationships. relative to these endeavors, they know me and what is good for me better than i do.    confession: people only know the me i am with them. no one knows the me i am alone or the me i am with someone other than with them. this seems sadly strange to me. there are versions of me i’d like everyone to know, especially the alone version and the me-and-gigi version and the me-and-c version. the closest anyone gets to the me-and-gigi version is when we are misbehaving in public as if there were no one else around. the closest one can get to the me-and-c version is to witness us on the dancefloor or at a strip club. i love my best friends. 😉